


Gods Among Men

by jettadura



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25254676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jettadura/pseuds/jettadura
Summary: The year is 1899. Magic and myths have become a normal part of life. A set of ancient artifacts have been scattered across the world for centuries, sparking many wars over the mystical powers they hold. Whoever collects all twelve artifacts will be granted the strength and immortality of a god, or so the legend says. Lenny seems to have found one of the artifacts in Blackwater, and it's up to the Van der Linde gang to secure it and keep it out of the wrong hands. Unfortunately, two other artifacts have been found: one by the O'Driscolls and one by a notorious gang ravaging the UK. Dutch says he wants to use his powers for good, but as an outlaw, the thought of that much power is tempting. Will the Van der Linde gang survive the war?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Gods Among Men

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy! I just wanna preface this by saying thank you in advance for clicking on this fic. It was entirely inspired by Dragon Age: Inquisition, as well as some original work I've been working on for a few years. This is my first ever fanfic and I really hope you enjoy!

The night sky that blanketed the Grizzlies felt darker than the past few days the Van Der Linde gang had experienced. Snow fell like raining bullets, suffocating the earth and closing in the little mining camp of Colter. If there were animals in the woods, nobody could see or hear them through the blizzard. A new moon hid behind the sheer clouds overlooking the land. At first glance, Arthur glanced out the window and could swear the stars spelled out his fate.

“So...what happened in Blackwater?”

Arthur sat back against the rickety chair, staring out the window to watch the blizzard fall. The fire danced across the wood they had set down in the fireplace, and with a wave of his hand, the flames grew stronger and burned hotter. It was mostly silent, save for a few crackles of firewood in front of him. He glanced over at Charles, trying to wrap his hand in a bandage. Something big must have happened, he assumed, seeing as how everyone seemed reluctant to talk about it.

“Burned my hand. Fire magic,” Charles uttered, trying to heal himself.

“I can see that, but--”

“Everything just happened so fast. We should have been more careful. Should have been more prepared.”

Charles sighed and sat back, wincing at his burned hand. The room fell silent again. Arthur offered a bottle of whiskey, half-empty but still good. Charles shook his head.

“We lost some folks we shouldn’t have. I can’t help but feel somewhat responsible,” he said, fixing his bandage.

“It ain’t your fault, Charles. It ain’t nobody’s fault. Davey was already on his last leg, and as for little Jenny… well, I heard it was an accident.”

Charles shrugged. “It was, more or less. I’m just worried. I mean, we left in such a hurry. Everyone’s out of Flynium, and nobody’s got any potions left. We haven’t lived like normal people in such a long time.”

“Well, I can’t see the future or nothin’, but I reckon we’ll be okay here for a few days. As soon as the blizzard lets up, we’ll be on our way before the Pinkertons even knew we were here,” Arthur said in a low voice, offering a comforting grip on Charles’ shoulder. “All that matters is that we got that artifact before the Pinkertons did. And before Brithunkeep.”

“I guess you’re right. And if what Lenny says is true, no one should be able to track us with that artifact.” 

Charles caressed his hand, trying to make the pain go away on its own. It had been years since he dealt with a burn like this. He was so used to using magic that he almost forgot about mundane medicine. There had to be some herbs and oils that could help with burns, he figured, but they’d be impossible to obtain in a snow storm. He figured he’d have to let it heal naturally, or until he could kind something to fuel his magic.

The voices in the other buildings roared with a mix of fear and anticipation. Dutch seemed to be the loudest of them all, with a struggling voice trying to calm the others down. Arthur sighed. He couldn’t make out the words, but the feeling was there. Everyone seemed to be on edge with what happened in Blackwater. Only a handful of people were involved with the heist, and everyone else was in charge of gathering supplies. 

Arthur stood up and patted Charles on the back. “You go rest that hand. I gotta see what all the commotion is about.”

“Be careful.”

It took a moment for Arthur to brace himself for the storm. It’s biting winds almost swept him off his feet, and the snow clung to him like static. Slowly and gingerly, he ambled over to the building next door, using his arm to shield his face from the impact. Although the noise from inside still wasn’t decipherable, it was loud enough to get a better idea of what was going on.

Nobody heard him barge in and slam the door shut. All he could see were several men holding back Bill, and Lenny on the floor with a bruised face. Arthur darted over to help Lenny stand back up, and amidst the chaos, Dutch stood in between them to demand order. With a final shout and flash of the eyes, the room fell silent. He glanced behind him at Lenny and Arthur, nodding to them, signaling them to leave before things got worse. 

“Come on,” Arthur grunted, hoisting Lenny across his shoulder. “Let’s get you outta here.”

“Thank you, Arthur.”

Bill’s fists were still balled up, still hot with anger after the argument. Javier, Hosea, and Pearson loosened their grips before taking a few steps back, allowing Dutch to have his word. It was an awkward silence that was almost tangible, almost solid enough for Dutch to grab and beat someone with. That’s exactly the look he flashed Bill. A look of silent venom, as Hosea would always say, that was as dead as the night itself. Dutch held out a single finger, gesturing for Bill to walk forward.

Bill sauntered as if he wasn’t the one in control of his body. His eyes widened with fear, knowing he was wrong but not wanting to accept the consequences. Dutch pursed his lips and nodded. 

“So that’s twice now?” He asked in a hushed voice.

“Dutch, I--”

Dutch held up another finger, gazing around the room and everyone else’s wide eyes and panicked voices. “Everyone… the situation is under control. No need to fear.”

“We ain’t afraid, Dutch, we-”

Arthur’s words were cut off by Dutch’s stern eyes glaring over at him. He didn’t say anything more--neither of them did--and returned their attention to Bill Williamson, still on his knees brimming with uncertainty. Dutch bent downward ever so slightly to stare into Bill’s eyes, as if peering into his soul, and a flash of magic twinkled in front of them. A faint blue wave of light danced from Dutch’s eyes into Bill’s head. The silence was deeply uncomfortable for everyone in the room, and after the light fell behind Bill’s eyes, Dutch finally leaned back up.

“I’m gonna need you to get up and apologize to Lenny.”

Bill felt his whole body tense up. He could feel Dutch’s spell coursing through his veins, and although this wasn’t the first time, he didn’t quite know how to describe it. It didn’t hurt at all, yet it wasn’t exactly comfortable either. The physical feeling was a set of polar opposites that didn’t go together, yet somehow fit together well. It was electric, yet gentle. Numbness, yet very intense. Bill rose from his knees like a zombie, slowly and awkwardly turning towards Lenny. His voice was raspy and forced, as if Dutch himself was choking the life out of him.

“I...apologize...Lenny…” Bill gasped for air as Dutch released the spiritual grasp on him, jolting himself forward onto his hands and then scrambling away from the group. Dutch shook his head softly, eyes lowered onto Bill’s unwavering fear. 

“From now on,” Dutch began, turning towards the rest of the gang, “I don’t want anymore fights. No more outbursts. No more scraps. I know it’s been a tough couple of days, but we need to stick together. We may have lost some folks in Blackwater, but the rest of us need to stick together. All that matters from here on out is securing that artifact and making sure it doesn’t get into the wrong hands. The battle is half over, everyone. I need you all to stick it through to the end of the war. Am I clear?”

He thought his speech touched the hearts of everyone in the gang. Dutch was usually pretty good at inspiring others, but the air felt different tonight. No one responded. A few people nodded, and the rest shifted uncomfortably away from Dutch. Arthur stepped forward, placing a hand on Dutch’s coat and whispering into his ear.

“Was that necessary? I thought we had rules about that, Dutch!”

As the others dispersed, Dutch gave Arthur his undivided attention. “You know I don’t like using my power on other people, especially my own men. But Bill… I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to break up a fight. Sometimes, Arthur, you gotta do things you don’t like to get your point across. Sooner you learn that, the sooner you’ll understand why I do the things I do.”

Arthur sighed and shrugged. “Yeah, but-- I mean, you saw what happened in Blackwater! Don’t you think we should save our energy for people who, y’know, deserve it?”

“We will,” Dutch said in a low voice. “As a matter of fact, I’m gonna need you later on. I got word from Micah of some O’Driscoll activity nearby. We need supplies, and they need a beating. We could kill two birds with one stone!”

Arthur hesitated. “You wanna go out in this storm to hunt down some O’Driscolls? Are you out of your mind?”

“Not in the storm, Arthur! When the storm dies down! That’s our best chance of getting food and potions while we’re here!” 

Much to Arthur’s dismay, it made sense. After the mess that was Blackwater, no one had time to get food or supplies. Morale was the lowest Arthur’s--or anyone, for that matter--has seen in years. He assumed they would lie low in Colter, and despite how underprepared they were, raiding an O’Driscoll base was both their safest and riskiest option. As Dutch left the building, Arthur’s eyes scanned the room and shot back towards the door. “I guess you’re right about this. Well… I hope you’re right.”


End file.
